


Pickles and Spicy Mayo

by convolutedConcussion



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pre-Relationship, The Big Reveal, it's pretty awkward, technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 13:32:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11464608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/convolutedConcussion/pseuds/convolutedConcussion
Summary: “Maybe it’s aliens,” Wynonna says, glaring at the empty vodka bottle in the trash.  “It’d be pretty unfortunate if they’d abducted me just to hide a xenomorph in my uterus when they could have just taken me far, far away from this planet.”





	Pickles and Spicy Mayo

When Dolls kisses her, it’s all gentleness—it’s all soft hands and feather-light lips and the way he touches her is slow and simple and she wants to _live_ in this feeling.  This, this she can do—she could just kiss him for days, and she’s wanted this _so long_ , and she doesn’t want it to _stop_.  It’s so good; it’s not until it _stops_ that her mouth tastes like ash and the weight of the secret she’s carrying grows so, so heavy and it’s all she can do not to tear out of the room.  _I’m in so much shit_ , she thinks, hand flat on her abdomen as she watches him walk away.  _Deep, deep shit_.

For days, she’s been trying to figure out the math—because the math doesn’t _figure_.  She’s forgotten a lot in her day, but she’s _never_ forgotten a lay, frankly—if it were Doc’s, she reasons, her belly wouldn’t be near as flat.  Waves googles and reads and offers suggestions—incubus, immaculate conception, literal angels, a thousand different creatures which can and do in myth impregnate women—but the question of _how_ , exactly, to know what was right and what was _so completely wrong_ isn’t easily answered.

“Maybe it’s aliens,” Wynonna says, glaring at the empty vodka bottle in the trash.  “It’d be pretty unfortunate if they’d abducted me just to hide a xenomorph in my uterus when they could have just taken me far, far away from this planet.”

“Your baby’s gonna have a complex before it’s even born,” she responds, eyebrows tilted sadly.  Her fingers drum on the table in a quick, uneven beat before, “What about—when was the last female heir?”

Scowling, Wynonna demands, “Why would you ask _me_?”

“Do you think—what if it’s the curse?  Like—ensuring there’s another generation, just in case you…” Waves trails off, shrugging pointedly.  All she can do is stare—because that is either the _dumbest_ thing she’s ever heard or…  “I mean, it’s not like we’ve got great-great grandmother Mildred’s diaries, and even then she probably wouldn’t—wouldn’t have admitted to something like _this_ , but, you know, it could happen?”

Instead of answering, she just groans and lets her head drop to the kitchen counter.  She hears footsteps, then an arm slings low around her waist and something—gratitude or love or something equally mushy—wells up in her chest and she has to clear her throat and blink a couple times to push aside a sudden rush of what she’s kind of humiliated to acknowledge are _tears_.  Finally, she groans, “I’m such a _dick_.”

“Well, that sure was a non-sequitur,” Waverly says gently, hand sliding slowly up and down her spine.

“I was gonna—I was gonna tell Dolls, but then he kissed me and I couldn’t—” her voice cracks and she straightens and scrubs her hands over her face.  Anxiety makes her chest tight.  Her hands have been shaking for a bottle for a week.  “Of all the dumbass things to worry about…” she scoffs, rolling her eyes.

“Wynonna…”

“Forget—just, forget it,” she sighs, shaking her head violently.  “It’s dumb, sorry I even brought it up—I need a shower.”  Her sister’s lips twist, but she doesn’t say anything.

\--

If Waverly heard her early that morning practicing her speech in the mirror, she has the good grace not to say anything that morning when she pushes a cup of decaf into her hands.  She takes a slow, deep sip.  “I hate this, I can’t even have caffeine?” she demands sullenly as she collapses into a chair.

“I got you blue raspberry PopTarts,” Waves responds, coaxing and gentle.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, and please know I never thought I’d say this, but—” she cuts off with a few choice gagging noises.  “Stop worrying about me, go get ready.”  Her hands flex around the warm mug as she hears her sister leave.  There’s that squirmy, wormy worry in her gut she can’t quite shake—she’s disgustingly giddy to see him, and yet…

She remembers the face he made when he found out about Doc and the icy grip of dread in her chest and the way words just tumbled out of her mouth.  Then again… this isn’t _exactly_ like a few hard and fast romps with an immortal gunslinger—eventually, everyone’s gonna know.  It’s not like she’s gonna just wear sweaters and mumus, especially not in the summer.  Somehow… she’s gotta get ahead of this, she can’t _hide_ this.  Chewing her lip, she rubs over her lower belly. 

“This is gonna suck,” she mumbles.  She hears the shower start.  As she stands, she shoves her hands through her damp hair.  Might as well keep practicing.

\--

After a few hours of dismaying over what on _earth_ they’re gonna do since Black Badge let loose a _goddamn warehouse of demons_ and then flew the coop, Wynonna starts to feel a little like she’s going crazy.  There’s only so much talking in circles and dead leads and goddamn mysteries she can take.  She’s bargaining with the Keurig when Nicole finds her—honestly, they gotta stop meeting like this—and she says the first thing that comes to mind—“I made sure there was water in it this time, why do your cursed coffee makers hate me?”

“So dramatic,” Nicole chides, elbowing her gently out of the way.  With a sigh, she watches her fiddle with the buttons, the water tank, then she lifts the lid and sets it back down and when she hits the button again it actually starts brewing.

“What in the hell…” she mumbles, dismayed.

“Hey, since when do you drink decaf, anyway?  I thought it was just ‘real coffee’s lying cousin’?” she asks suddenly. 

Wynonna is saved from having to try to come up with some lie by Dolls leaning into the doorway and favoring her with one of those gentle, lopsided smiles that make her mouth go dry and her brain go offline.  “Hey, Earp,” he says, lips popping on the P, “You wanna go get lunch?”

“I’m so hungry, I’d kill an innocent man for a mediocre burger,” she responds seriously.  His eyes go flat and she grins, satisfied.  She pretends not to notice Nicole’s eyes darting between them.

As she follows him out, she hears her call, “But what about your coffee?”

She pulls a face, Nicole smiles like she’s got a secret.

\--

For the first part of lunch, Wynonna’s too focused on being _absolutely insatiably hungry_ to really manage to be nervous.  She fairly douses her burger in hot sauce before digging in, and she thinks he may be giving her a _look_ but she didn’t have breakfast that morning.  At about half the burger finished, she starts to feel like maybe her eyes were a little bit bigger than her stomach.  When she sets it back down on her plate, she feels kinda like she could belch up a full minute of flames.   _That’s sexy_ , she thinks with a wince as she leans back into the booth.

“Little overzealous?” he asks, eyebrows ticking up under his trucker hat.

“Little bit,” she breathes, suddenly sleepy.  Without the absolute certainty that she would _die_ if she didn’t scarf down her food, nerves start to niggle at the back of her brain and she starts wringing her napkin in her lap under the table. 

He starts to say, “I wanted to talk to you about—” just as she says, “Listen, I needed to tell you—”

They both fall silent for a moment, and it’s awkward and nervous and she feels her lips twist as she stares at the scarred table between them.  His fingertips _tap tap tap_ just in her line of sight, and she brings herself to look up at him.  He’s got that same smile, sweet and bright and goddamn _gorgeous_.  She wishes a little bit she could kiss him again before he literally never touches her again.

“Wynonna, I’m just really, really—”

“Wait,” she interrupts, shaking her head a little and frowning.  “Wait, I don’t—don’t say anything you’ll regret, just let me…”  She stops, takes a breath.  “I’m pregnant, and I have no clue how.”

His mouth opens, then shuts, and his smile fades, and he looks down at the table.  “You, um, don’t know how?  Do we need to have a birds and bees talk?”

“No, you don’t understand, I haven’t been touched by anything more animated than my showerhead in six months,” she says, too loud in the sudden silence of the diner.  Her face goes red and she bites her own lip, hard.  “Sorry, I, um…” she swallows thickly.  “Sorry.”  When he doesn’t respond for nearly half a minute, she yanks out her wallet and throws down a couple bills, all the while muttering inanely about how they should get back to the station.

\--

When she hears the crunch of snow under tires behind her, she resolves not to turn around and to just keep walking and she keeps that resolution for all of five minutes before her cold toes get the better of her.  Instead of turning, she stops and lets the SUV pull up next to her.  “Do you wanna get in the car?” Dolls asks.

“I haven’t decided yet,” she says, arms crossed tight in front of her chest.  “I should have told you sooner, but—”

“Wynonna, get in the _car_ ,” he orders.  “You don’t owe me anyth—”

“Don’t _say_ that,” she snaps.  She continues in a thoughtless rush, “That’s what people say when they’re mad and I didn’t do anything and I don’t want you to be mad.”  It’s childish and makes her feel even colder to say.

“I’m not mad,” he says slowly.  “Hey, I’m not mad.  I’m just—I was surprised, it’s surprising news.”

“You’re telling me,” she scoffs, rubbing her hands together.  “Okay!  Okay, I’ll get in the car.”  He leans across the passenger seat and shoves the door open.  “Mostly because I left my gloves in here,” she mumbles as she climbs in.

“Sure, okay,” he nods, turning up the heat and rolling up the window.  “When did you find out?”

“Like three days ago,” she says.  “The—Mikshun told Waves and Waves got me virtually every test she could find after the first one came back positive.  Then they all came back positive.”

“Is that why you were eating pickles dipped in spicy mayo this morning?” he asks, voice suddenly lighter.

“No, that’s just a delicious combo.”  When she peeks over, he’s at least smiling.  The chill of dread in her chest has started to thaw a little.  “So, yeah.  That’s… yep,” she mumbles, rubbing her hands together and looking out her window.  “Aren’cha glad I didn’t let you, like…” she stops short of saying _confess your love_ , because even the thought hurts more than it ought.

She thinks her heart may actually stop when he pulls over and throws the SUV in park.  “Look at me real quick,” he says, voice soft enough that it may have even been a question.  Biting down on the inside of her cheek, she looks pretty much everywhere _but_ him for almost a full minute before meeting his eyes.  “Like, I’m with you.  I’m not going anywhere, and I got your back.  Everything else is just dressing and doesn’t need to be figured out right this second, okay?”

His stare is _so_ intent and _so_ expectant, she can’t hold out and lets out a long breath and nods and croaks, “Ye-yeah, okay.”  His hand wraps, big and warm, around hers.  “Do you have my back enough to take me to my appointment next week?  Because Doc drives a little bit like he’s not sure the brakes can still work even if you’re not going one-forty.”

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the request: "dearestpartnerofgreatness said: Can we have a fic in which Wyn assumes Dolls is gonna be angry/upset about the baby but instead of reacting negatively he's super supportive and sweet because he doesnt care about who the father is; he just wants to support her"
> 
> Um, yes, buddy, we sure can have that.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Feel free to swing by my [Tumblr](http://johnisntevendead.tumblr.com) where talking about these nerds is basically all I do.


End file.
